Drawing Down the Moon
by TwiTricksandTreats
Summary: Everyone knows that sacrifice is a part of life. I just never thought the sacrifice would be me. Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.


Title of Story: Drawing Down the Moon.

Rating: M

Pairing: E/B

Genre: Supernatural/Drama

Word Count: 6421

Story Summary: Everyone knows that sacrifice is a part of life. I just never thought the sacrifice would be me.

Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. 

**o0o**

Drawing Down the Moon.

"Happy twenty-first birthday honey." My grandfather's frail voice breaks through my dazed mind. He doesn't have long left and I'm devastated about that fact.

I lean over to kiss his forehead. "Thanks, Gramps," I whisper the words against his weathered skin.

His hand comes up to cup my cheek. "I'm sorry I won't be here to protect you."

"I don't need protecting Gramps. I'm fine." I hand him a piece of pumpkin pie. No birthday cake for me. Being born on All Hallows Eve meant my birthdays were filled with pumpkin pie and ghost and ghoul decorations. I look around at the overused decorations and snort when my eyes find the familiar witch decoration hanging from the ceiling. It was my mother's favorite. It was always the first to be put up and the last to be taken down. I always found it ironic that she loved the damn thing so much. You would think that being a family of witches we would shy away from the typical stereotypes. Not Renee, she embraced her lineage and lived her life to the fullest.

My family always themed my birthday around the holiday. So this year my Gramps got one of the coven members to help him decorate the house. It was the day before All Hallows Eve and Gramps had decided we should celebrate today, instead of waiting until tomorrow.

"Your mother would have been so proud, Isabella." I try to smile at him although I don't think he was fooled. My mother died before my tenth birthday, and my grandmother two years before her. The witches in my family seem to be cursed to die before their time and now it was my grandfather's turn. "I need you to do something for me, Isabella."

"Anything." My Gramps was all I had left. He was my rock, my safe haven. The man who shielded me from all the whispers from the other coven members.

"I need you to leave tomorrow."

"Gramps…" I warn. He had been hinting at my leaving the coven for weeks now.

He grabs ahold of one of my hands and pushes my shirt's long sleeve up, exposing the magical markings that run the full-length of my arm. He runs a finger down the thick, dark sigils, around the swirls, and finally ending his perusal by tracing the pentagram at my wrist. "These mark you for what you are, Isabella. I've told you many times that you are meant for greatness and I meant it."

I withdraw my hand and push my shirt's long sleeve back down, covering the markings again. I've always kept them covered.

Witches were born with magical sigils on their skin, usually a small swirl or some type of image. My mother had a small, light red, swirling mark that sat on her right shoulder blade. My grandmother's was a light reddish-brown star and sat behind her left ear. Grandfather had what looked like a brown wand running along the length of his index finger. Magical markings showed up once a witch reached puberty and would grow in size and darken depending on the strength of their powers. The bigger and darker the mark, the stronger the witch. Once a witch meets his or her mate they would also bare their mate's mark alongside their own.

I had always been an anomaly. When I was born at the stroke of midnight on All Hallows Eve, my marks had already been present. Dark, thick black swirls displayed down the entirety of both arms with both wrists adorning two - clear as day - pentagrams. The coven had been shocked; never had a witch been born with his or her markings already present and never had they been so dark.

"I'll be fine, Gramps. I promise."

He shakes his head. "I won't live through the night Isabella and I don't want you left alone with the coven." He really didn't like how the other coven members treated me. They were scared of me and my powers. They very seldom spent any time alone with me. None of the elders wanted to teach me the ways of the coven or how to control and use my powers. So Gramps spent every free minute he had making sure I was equipped to control and use my powers properly. It had been hard and had to be done in secret to avoid any drama from the other coven members, but at least I had the basics down.

I didn't like my powers. I'd heard the whispers the coven members said about me. They thought I would be dangerous if I was taught to use my magic. It was because of those whispers I still wasn't fully comfortable using my gifts. Sure, they came to me easily but what if they were right! What if my magic was dangerous, dark? What if I accidentally hurt someone? They were still so unpredictable.

"I have nowhere to go." My voice is low, timid even. I didn't have anywhere to go. I had no friends who would take me in, no family left to mourn my grandfather's passing with.

"Make your way through The Transient Forest and toward The Realm of Man. If you hide your marks you can live peacefully and undetected among them."

"Humans! I can't live among humans. What happens if I lose my cool and accidentally turn one of them into a toad?" I snort. That would just be my luck.

My grandfather chuckles, probably remembering the times I accidentally turned him into a toad during my awkward teenage years. "You will be fine. You could try The Multi-Nation. They welcome anyone no matter what their species."

I nod, the Multi-Nation would be my best bet. It was a safe haven for many. "But Tissadran is my home. This is where I should stay. With my own kind." My village was small but mighty. Our coven was one of the strongest in the Magical Realm.

He coughs and brings a tissue up to wipe the blood away from his mouth. He breathes deeply and clears his throat. "Tomorrow you leave. Don't hesitate. Tonight is my last night and I want to go peacefully knowing that you will be safe. Tissadran isn't safe for you, Isabella."

I close my eyes tight, fighting back the tears. He has seen his passing, seen that he would be leaving me alone. "What else have you seen Gramps? Why do I need to leave?"

He shakes his head. "I cannot tell you child, but know that whatever hurdles you have to overcome you will be safe. No one would dare to touch you once you find your place. Follow your marks, they will lead you to your destiny."

' _Follow my marks'_ I hate when he doesn't give me a straight answer.

"Now, Isabella it's time for me to turn in for the night. Help me to my room, please." I help him stand and allow him to rest his weight on me as we slowly make our way to his bedroom. I help him climb into bed and then I pull the covers over his frail frame.

"Good night, Gramps. I love you."

He smiles and pulls my face close to his so he can place a kiss on my cheek. "Goodbye my child and remember 'Even the darkest eyes can offer comfort. Trust your marks and see beyond the exterior.'"

I kiss his forehead. "Love you." I pull back, pat his hand and make my way out of his bedroom, fighting the tears. It wouldn't do me any good to cry.

 **o0o**

The morning sun wakes me from my slumber but I don't get up. If I get up, that means I have to face the truth. If I get up, that means I have to leave my coven today, and if I get up, it also means I have to acknowledge my grandfather has passed away.

I can feel - that in the next room - my grandfather's lifeless body is waiting. His soul void from its mortal prison. I know what my duties are for today but I don't want to do them.

I lay staring at my ceiling for a while before heaving my weary body from my bed. I bypass my grandfather's room and make the call I had been dreading. Elder Cope informs me the coven is already prepared and my Gramps' body will be collected later. The coven will prepare him for his last offering.

I hide in the kitchen when the elders come to collect Gramps. There are no offers of condolence, no well wishes, just a knock at the kitchen door and a voice calling out with the time I need to be at the burial ground.

I spend all of my morning and evening pacing around the house in my sleepwear, contemplating my grandfather's wishes for me to leave Tissadran and the coven behind. Maybe I could stay. Grandfather wasn't infallible, he sometimes got things wrong. Maybe the coven would accept me now that I was on my own. I concentrate on that. I am the last Swan witch. My family was one of the founding families. Probably one of the most powerful.

Surely they would support me in my time of need.

It isn't long before I realize it was time to leave for my grandfather's service and I run upstairs to change into my white mourning dress, hating that I have to leave my arms uncovered. It's a tradition that the family of deceased witches wear white when we bury our dead. It's supposed to represent our pure love for our departing family member and help guide them into the light of our mother. I didn't know if it was true or not but I would represent my family correctly. Grandfather would want me to do this right. He loved the coven and the coven loved him. It was me that they had the issue with, although he tried his very best to get them to accept me.

I rummage through my crystal box and grab my grandmother's and mother's stones, placing them into a white bag for the offering. Gramps had given them to me after their passings and I couldn't think of a better offering than to send them with my Gramps. I notice my grandfather's blue stone lying in the box and wonder when he put it in there. I remember being fascinated with the color of his stone when I was younger. It was so bright and vivid, even after all these years, like the color of the ocean.

A witch will find his or her stone within a few years of coming into their powers. The witch will merely stumble across a stone and be immediately attracted to it. It is said that a witches' stone is a gift from the Mother Divine and is a reminder to stay connected to the earth and all its powers. Most female witches' stones are pink or white or some variation of pretty colors that represent light and purity. My stone was a different matter altogether. My mother said I was four years old and playing in the yard when I ran to show her my "pretty stone." Instead of finding a smooth pink or white stone like the other female witches in the coven mine was a jet black, jagged stone with a deep red line running through the middle of it. My stone, unlike the others, also gave off an energy to me. I wasn't sure what it was but I could feel it pulse when I held it, almost like a heartbeat. Grabbing my grandfather's stone, I place it in my dress pocket along with mine and headed for his last offering.

The burial ground is dark but the moon is shining brightly - like a beacon guiding my grandfather home. The ground is littered with carved pumpkins, their candlelight casting a soft subtle glow over the ground. I guess the coven were embracing the holiday. I couldn't help but smile because I knew Gramps would love seeing the many carved pumpkin faces. It was his favorite holiday after all.

I ignore the coven and make my way to stand over the hole where my grandfather's body had been placed and throw my offerings into it.

"Say hi to Mom and Grams for me Gramps. I'll miss you." I wipe away a stray tear and take a step back.

The coven gathers around and starts to place their offerings into the hole. I take another step back and watch as Elder Cope stands in front of the grave and starts to chant under her breath. Then she turns to face the many witches gathered and starts the Drawing Down the Moon Ritual. "We the Tissadran Coven offer our beloved Elder Swan to the mighty Divine Mother. We ask that she grants him safe passage to his beloveds and his magic be given back to the lands." She leans down to grab a handful of soil and places it into a jar. As an Earth witch, she will use the soil to center her magic during the offering.

She raises the jar up above her head into the air and starts to speak to the Mother Divine. "We invoke thee, queen of queens. Come to us in all our dreams. Blessed Goddess from above. Grant us peace. Grant us love. Lead thy children here below, let us all thy secrets know. Perfect love and perfect trust, lest we turn all into dust. Queen of Life where all are bound, take your power to the ground. Upwards, upwards, on and on, fill our souls with thee as one. Nearer, nearer, nearer come."

"Nearer, nearer, nearer come." I murmur the words along with the rest of the coven.

I watch as Elder Cope turns to me and offers me her soil-filled jar. "Isabella, please finish." Everyone steps back as I take the jar and pour it over my grandfather's body.

"Bye Gramps," I whisper. "May your soul pass to the Mother Divine and your magic enter back into the Earth to be restored to the coven." I close my eyes fighting the tears. "I love you."

"NOW!"

I'm grabbed from behind by multiple hands, I feel something being tied around my neck and my hands bound. It's a whirlwind of activity. The scenery blurs as I'm lifted up onto someone's shoulders. I scream and kick. Someone ties my legs, and - in what feels like a matter of seconds - I am thrown into the hole with my grandfather.

The coven stands over me, watching as I struggle to stand. Even if I wasn't bound I wouldn't be able to climb out. The hole must be ten feet deep. "What are you doing?"

Elder Banner's voice calls down into the hole. "You cannot be allowed to flourish Isabella. You are a danger to the coven." I concentrate on the bindings, willing them to untie. Nothing happens. I chant and I plead but nothing happens. "The pendant around your neck prevents you from using your magic." I'm at a total loss. There's no way I can remove the pendant with my hands tied.

"Why?" I cry out the words.

"As I said, Isabella. You cannot be allowed to develop your gifts. Unfortunately, we have been unsuccessful in removing your magic. No binding spells have worked; we need to protect the coven and allow your magic to be reabsorbed through the Earth so that the Divine Mother can replenish our coven with them." _They're going to kill me so they can use my magic?_

I struggle against the bindings as Elder Banner begins the ritual. "We invoke thee, queen of queens. Come to us in all our dreams. Blessed Goddess from above. Grant us peace. Grant us love. Lead thy children here below, let us all thy secrets know. Perfect love and perfect trust, lest we turn all into dust. Queen of Life where all are bound, take your power to the ground. Upwards, upwards, on and on, fill our souls with thee as one. Nearer, nearer, nearer come."

"NO!" I scream as the rest of the coven joins in. They can't do this. I stare in horror as dirt is shoveled into the hole. They are going to bury me alive. My struggles are useless but I don't stop. I can't stop. I need to find someway out of this.

I'm huddled into a corner, pleading. The dirt keeps getting higher and someone throws a shovel full over me. I can taste the soil in my mouth, the bitter taste making me gag. I don't know what to do. "Help me," I whisper, hoping someone will stop this madness.

"Nearer, nearer, nearer come." The coven continues to chant. Louder and louder. "Nearer, nearer, nearer come. Nearer, nearer, nearer come. Nearer, nearer, nearer come."

My struggles wain and my pleas end. It's no use. I'm not strong enough. "Giving up now is not the way little spellcaster. Fight." I don't recognize the man's voice that is whispering in my head. Maybe I've finally lost it.

Warmth radiates from my dress pocket. My stone is pulsing, stronger and stronger. I have no idea where the heat is coming from. It's never done that before. The voice continues to talk to me. "Fight little spellcaster." _Fight?_ What with? I have no magic. This stupid pendant has seen to that. "Fight harder little spellcaster," I scream again. I'm terrified. "Concentrate." The voice is dark, but soothing.

I try to concentrate on the bindings again. Nothing. I'm at a loss. "Help me." I plead with the voice. "Help me, please." I hear what sounds like a sigh of frustration then the world around me falls quiet. I can't hear anything. No chanting. No wind. Nothing. Not even my own breathing. Thick grey smoke rises up in front of me and I cringe. _What the hell?_

The smoke takes shape and I see what looks like a face staring at me. "Help me." I plead. Is it my grandfather's ghost? I don't know and I don't care. "Please." Two green eyes appear briefly, making me startle. Then the smoke moves up my body and onto the bindings. They loosen and I pull my arms free. Reaching up for the pendant I hiss when it burns my hand. Shit. I can't remove it. My hearing clears and the wind whips up blowing my hair around my face.

That's when the screaming starts and my body is propelled out of the hole, landing beneath the tree opposite the hole. The smoke figure floats over to me. "Should I kill them all, little spellcaster? End their pitiful lives?" I cringe into myself when one of the coven members flies into a neighboring tree.

Shaking my head, I whisper. "No." I couldn't live with myself if I was responsible for the deaths of my coven members. No matter how much pain they have caused me.

"Then run little spellcaster. I will find you soon." I freeze for a moment as the smoke drifts over to Elder Webber and throws her clear across the coven's sacred burial ground. "NOW!" The voice shouts out loud in my head and I scramble to my feet, turning to flee the brutal attack that continues to plague my coven.

 **o0o**

It doesn't take me long to reach The Transient Forest. I'm dirty, cold, and slightly freaked out. I have no idea which way I'm headed; with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch-black. Ever so often I see a flickering light of a forest Lampyridae but they only flicker briefly. They offer no long-term light. The trees groan and creak under the wind. I can see them move in the corner of my eye. However, I don't acknowledge them. Trees in the Transient Forest can be temperamental; stand on the wrong root and they won't hesitate to knock your head clear off your body.

I reach up for the pendant around my neck once more. My hand burns as I touch it, but I persevere and pull as hard as I can. The last thing I need is to be powerless in The Transient Forest. My tugging doesn't work to break the chain of the pendant and now I also have a sore hand and neck to add to my many problems. I know what kind of spell this is. Someone will have to remove the pendant for me, the only issue with this is that The Transient Forest doesn't house many helpful creatures.

My feet continue to carry me forward, my legs ache but I continue nevertheless. The moon becomes visible through the trees, casting a soft light into the forest. At least I can see better now. First, I need to find somewhere to rest for the night. Then, I can continue on tomorrow once day breaks.

The ground is slick from the rain, making me lose my footing a couple of times. I don't know how long I've been stumbling around, but the forest around me has turned strangely quiet, so I easily pick up on a noise to my right. I stop and peer into the trees but see nothing. Sighing, I continue to walk and the noise to my right picks back up again. Leaves rustle and branches snap. Then I notice it. A shadow. Moving through the forest, keeping pace with me. Eyes wide, I start to walk faster but the shadow continues to keep pace with me. I pick up my pace, breaking into a run. The shadow falls back slightly, but I'm not relieved; I know it's there. A noise from my left makes my head whip around and I notice something moving there also. I'm being herded. I have no idea who or what is following me but I'm scared out of my mind.

I'm breathless by now and I know I can't continue to keep running at this pace. I stop suddenly when a shadow emerges in front of me, blocking my path. All of a sudden teeth start snapping ferociously at me, forcing me to stagger back and fall onto my ass. I scream and scramble to get my footing, but lose it on the wet leaves. I stumble, my hands reaching for the nearby tree to steady me as I stand. I turn to stare in horror as the other shadows move closer. They step out from behind the trees and I cry out in fright.

Wolves. Shit. I have no protection against them.

Another shadow moves in front of me but I can't make out anything other than it is a person. "Pretty. Little. Witch." The female voice growls at me. "Silly… Pretty… Little… Witch coming into my forest alone." The shadow moves closer and I'm terrified when I finally see what it is. The woman is grotesque. She's tall with long, unnatural limbs. Her face is a cross between a wolf and a woman, and resting upon her head like a hat is the skinned head of a Minotaur. Blood covers almost every inch of her body and wrapped around her neck is what looks like bloody intestines.

I knew right then and there what she was. What they all were. Skinwalkers. A harmful witch who has the ability to turn into, possess, or disguise themselves as an animal. I remember my grandfather teaching me about them. She looks to be in mid-transformation, meaning she wanted me to see her in her human form. I've read the stories about them. They begin as healer witches, taught from a very young age how to use good and evil magic. Most can handle the responsibility, but some become corrupt, performing twisted ceremonies and manipulating magic in a perversion of the good works they were made for. Now I find I'm surrounded by at least six of them with no magic to protect myself.

I look around for an escape route but there isn't any. Deciding to chance it I run through the opening between two wolves only to be hit in the face by a tree's wayward branch. I fall onto my back and groan from the pain in my head. The edge of my vision is fading and I know I'm going to pass out soon. I try to fight it, but I can't. _How the hell am I going to get out of this?_

Then, I completely blackout.

 **o0o**

"Is she secure?" I struggle to gain consciousness.

"Yes." I can hear voices talking over me.

"What about the binding pendant?" I go to raise my hand to the pendant in question but am met with resistance. My hands are tied again. I try to move my feet but find they are restrained too.

"No! Don't remove it. We have no idea what she is capable of, there must be a good reason it's been put there." I struggle to open my eyes. My head is throbbing and my vision is blurred, although I can still make out two people hovering over me. I feel sick but swallow it down. Now is not the time to freak-out.

"Stop." My voice is weak, but I know they hear me. My vision clears and I strain to lift my aching head.

My heart picks up at what I'm seeing in front of me. I'm tied to a large stone altar, arms and feet bound. Around me are various creatures' bones. The Moon offers enough light for me to see that blood paints almost every inch of the forest's floor. My eyes widen at what must be a dozen Skinwalkers here - all in various states of transformation.

Someone grabs my shoulders forcing my back flat against the cold stone. I try to fight but I'm unsuccessful. I'm too weak. "Stop please." I will my bindings to untie, I chant for anything that will free me from these animals. Nothing happens and I feel the tears of frustration fall.

Someone wipes my arms. "Have you ever seen magic markings like these?" My arms are turned left and right, making me groan in pain as they pull against the rope around my wrists.

"No. Even if they are a combination of her magical markings and her mate's markings she must be very powerful. Her magic will feed us for many Moons." My magic, the bain of my existence. Why was I cursed with these markings? I'm nothing special. I'm not even that powerful.

I scream in pain as one of the Skinwalkers starts to cut open my markings. I can feel the blood drip from each cut. I pull against the hands holding my shoulders down and more hands join them.

Then, it happens. My stone starts to pulse and heat, making my screams die down. Come on ghost help me. I cry as the knife continues to cut at my right arm. _Please help me._ I wait and wait but nothing happens. My stone is pulsing harder and harder against my hip. Where the hell is that ghost? The knife is passed over my body and another Skinwalker starts to cut the markings on my left arm.

"Priestess, start the ritual."

A woman's voice chants in a language I'm unfamiliar with. However, I know what she is doing; she's invoking the goddess just like my coven did. I'm weakening but I can't help but make my final cry for help. "HELP!" I know it's pointless, no one can help me. I take a deep breath and center myself and that's when I realize my stone has stopped pulsing.

I look up into the bright Moon, knowing my death is inevitable. I make peace with what is happening, at least I will get to see my grandfather, my mother. Suddenly I grow angry. I didn't deserve any of this. "I hope my magic kills you all." I spit the words out between gritted teeth.

"It won't be your magic that kills them little spellcaster." I hold my breath. The ghost is back. "Not a ghost, little spellcaster. I'm much, much worse." The chanting has ceased and the hands are removed from my body.

I can hear the Skinwalkers cry in outrage. "You are not welcome here. Leave or face our wrath."

"You're about to face my wrath Skinwalkers and trust me I'm much more terrifying."

I weakly pull myself up, my eyes finding the commotion. A dozen Skinwalkers are surrounding a man. His huge body dwarfs them, making them look a lot less scary. Their knives and spears are all pointed at him as they warn him to go. I can only see the top of his shoulders and head but he doesn't look scared at all, if anything he looks amused. His eyes find mine and I gasp. Green eyes pierce through me, making my heart speed up. Was this my ghost?

The man lets out a dark chuckle and smiles at me. His head shakes slowly. "Not a ghost little spellcaster." _Oh right. What the hell is he?_ "We have plenty of time for introductions after I've dealt with this minor issue." Minor issue!?

He grabs the man closest to him by the neck and lifts him from the ground. His smile is wicked as he throws him into the crowding Skinwalkers. The rest attack him with their weapons but he doesn't flinch. It's like he doesn't feel them. They cry out as he grabs the woman who was presiding over the ritual and rips her head from her body in one swift movement. Her blood sprays everywhere and his laugh echoes throughout the surrounding forest as he discards the body onto the forest's floor.

A voice shouts out, drawing my attention from the decapitated corpse. "Get the girl!"

My savior's head turns to the Skinwalker running toward me and I watch, fascinated as his green eyes bleed to black, the white and green of his eyes completely disappear. Before the Skinwalker reaches me his body is engulfed in flames, his cries of pain are horrendous. Murmurs of disbelief echo around me from the other Skinwalkers as they watch the man burn alive. His cries of agony are loud and I wish my hands were free so I could cover my ears.

The man, my ghost, steps over the burning body and moves toward me, his hands spread wide. The remaining Skinwalkers all go flying into the surrounding trees. The branches wrap themselves around them keeping the Skinwalkers restrained. "Let me introduce myself." The man stands in front of the altar I'm tied to and addresses the Skinwalkers. "My name is Edward." He waits, his eyes looking around. "No one knows me." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "Let me tell you a story." He pulls himself up to sit beside my legs. "I am an Archdemon created by Lucifer's defective light. As the Archangels were made to keep order among the angels, the Archdemons did the same among the lesser demons. I was the first. The issue with being the first created is that Lucifer didn't know what he was getting himself into. I'm a little defective." He jumps down from the altar. "I don't follow orders very well. Anyway," he waves his hand, "I was let go and Lucifer created Lilith to help him control his minions." He turns to face me. "Fast forward a few millennia, twenty-one years ago to be precise and I awake to these." My eyes grow wide as he removes his shirt, my God I've never seen muscles like that. I gasp when I see that down both of his arms are magical markings. The more troubling issue with these magical markings is that they are identical to mine, all the way down to the pentagrams adorning his wrists.

"How?" This isn't possible.

"Yes, little spellcaster that was my question." He chuckles. "Imagine my surprise when I was told by a Seer that an infant witch had marked me as her mate. Unheard of I've been told." I shake my head.

"That's not possible." He's a demon. Witches only mate with fellow witches.

"And demons don't mate." _He can read my mind!_

"I'm a man of many talents little spellcaster." My heart starts to beat ferociously in my chest as I look into his black eyes. This man is my mate? Surely, this is a mistake? "It's no mistake. You're mine."

I find myself enthralled by this Archdemon named Edward but I'm also scared. "Can you untie me?" My voice is meek. I want to run. I want to stay. My mind is waging war within me. I'm scared, cold and a little hungry. I feel like I need to sleep for a week, then maybe I'll be able to wrap my head around the fact that I have mated to a demon..

He stares silently at me for a moment before reaching up and dragging a finger down the trails of blood on my arm. I watch fascinated as he brings his blood-soaked finger to his mouth and licks the blood clean from it. "I can't untie you yet little spellcaster. I need to deal with your captors and I don't want you running away in fright through the forest. Knowing your luck you will wind up being sacrificed by a group of forest elves next." He smirks, clearly amused with himself.

"Please."

He shakes his head and walks over to pick up one of the Skinwalkers' blades. He looks around at the restrained Skinwalkers. "Now, who's first?" None of them struggle against the tree branches holding them hostage. They watch silently, eyes riveted as Edward makes his way over to a large male Skinwalker and plunges the knife deep into his stomach. Blood pours from the wound, thick and fast as Edward drags the blade up towards his chest, completely opening the Skinwalkers' torso. I swallow back the bile as Edward calmly pulls the blade out and turns to the next Skinwalker.

That's when the screaming begins. The remaining Skinwalkers start to struggle, some start to chant. The wind picks up and rain starts to fall. Whatever magic they are trying to use isn't hindering Edward at all. When he reaches the next Skinwalker, a woman dressed in what looks to be various animal skins, he doesn't hesitate, he doesn't pause for one second; he simply plunges the knife through her forehead like it was nothing. His large, bulging muscles strain as he removes the blade from her head and moves onto the next one. There's no hesitation whatsoever as he slices the blade across her throat. He laughs when the blood coats his face but doesn't make a move to wipe it off. He moves calmly along to the next Skinwalker and the next until all that remains is a young male.

Edward stands and stares at the young male for a moment before speaking. "I am going to let you live. After all, what is the point of all this bloodshed if no one survives to share the tales of who did it." His arm that's holding the blade swings around to point at me. "That witch is mine, she belongs to me and I want everyone to know what will happen if anyone lays a single finger on her." The young man nods frantically at him. "Good, make sure you tell all your little heathen friends." Edward drops his arm, stands back and the tree holding the young man suddenly releases him. The man stumbles on shaking legs, his fear palpable. "Now run along before I change my mind Skinwalker."

The man is gone before I can blink, leaving me alone with the Archdemon. I don't know anything about Edward's breed. My grandfather never taught me anything about demons so I am totally lost. What do I do?

"You do nothing little spellcaster. You are probably the only person in this world who doesn't have to fear me." I'm startled to see Edward beside me now. His hand comes up and strokes his fingers through my hair. "Let us get you out of those bindings." The rope binding my arms and legs disappear and the binding pendant around my neck drops onto my lap. I turn my body to him and watch as his hands brush over my bleeding arms. Energy pulses through me and I'm shocked to see that my arms are completely healed.

I'm filled with questions and have no idea where to start. I'm horrified that even after what I just witnessed - the total destruction of the coven of Skinwalkers - I still do not fear him. I can feel the mating bond calling for him.

"Ask me anything."

I shake my head. I should run. Leave him here. I look more closely at Edward, and even though he's covered in blood I can still see that he is handsome. His dark eyes pierce through me and I remember my grandfather's words, _'Even the darkest eyes can offer comfort. Trust your marks and see beyond the exterior.'_ Was he talking about Edward? My eyes scan down his marked arms. This demon is my mate. The markings prove that.

I stand on shaky legs. "What now?" I whisper as I look at the destruction surrounding me. My hand unconsciously goes into my pocket, pulling my stone out. I hold it to my chest, feeling it pulse in time with my heartbeat. Something I always did when I needed comfort.

"Now, we leave." Edwards' eyes are fixed on my hand clenching the stone. "I'm pleased it offers you comfort little spellcaster. When I sent it to you I hoped it would be helpful."

My brow furrows. "Sent it to me?" I open my hand, revealing my magic stone.

Edward chuckles and reaches up to close my hand around it. "That is no stone." He shakes his head. "You were too young when I finally found you, I needed to leave until you were older. I left this with you for safe keeping."

I hold it tight. "What?" I shake my head and look down at my black jagged stone. I run a finger over the red streak running through it and jump slightly as it glows. I look at Edward wide-eyed. "If it isn't a stone, then what is it?" I'm puzzled, I always thought I found my stone like every other witch.

He smiles ruefully at me. "My heart. I left it with you."


End file.
